Speak No Evil
by Remalna Marguerite
Summary: Migel Labariel survived his brush with death....three years pass by....and he encounters a person from his past life as a Zaibach Soldier: Celena Schezar.
1. Speak No EvilCh1

Disclaimer: Escaflowne belongs to Sunrise and the people in Japan. I do [am quite proud of myself] owe the character Rian Cassimey & Co.  
  
Author's Note: A little tid-bit about this fic. I told Kathleen I'd take up her challenge, and I WILL try to fit all the major characters into the story (but I just HAD to use the word "guymelef", I'm sorry). Basically, I got tired of myself complaining about, er, what happened to MIGEL so I've decided to do something about it!! And voila!  
  
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Ch. 1  
  
Migel watched in morbid fascination as Van blew up his guymelef. Debris splintered onto the street. 'Impossible! How could Van have known where I was?' he thought furiously. Clenching his jaw, the dark-haired dragonslayer limped into a dark alleyway. He looked down at his leg. Blood had soaked through his blue and black uniform pants and he suspected the fall from his guymelef had splintered the femur in his right leg.   
  
"Dilandau is going to kill me for this," Migel whispered under his breath, "just how the hell am I going to explain to him that Van can see through our stealth-cloaks?" He grimly assessed his situation, quickly weighing his options. He had failed to kill Van. He had failed to escape from Fried's capitol city. Damn.   
  
"What am I going to do now? I can't fight with this broken leg." Suddenly, Migel detected a sickly-sweet rotting smell, reminding him of fresh blood. In a moment, a pair of strong icy hands viciously wrapped around his throat, choking off his startled cry. The dragonslayer attempted in vain to pry loose those fastened tentacles, but he could feel himself becoming weaker by the seconds. Black and purple spots swam in his vision. His struggles were useless. As the darkness enveloped his consciousness, his mind formed a single name, Dilandau.   
  
The assassin looked down on the still form of the dragonslayer. This one had been more difficult to kill than his past victims, which he attributed to the boy's military training. Zhongi felt no discomfort in the death of the slayer...after all; master Folken had specified he was to get in and out of Fried without being detected.  
  
"You vould have revealllt my secrrret identity...ve can't have zhat, can ve now?" The doppleganger asked ironically. He rolled the slayer's body deeper into the alley for the city's guards to find in the morning-provided the rats did not get to him first.   
  
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Rian Cassimey stumbled drunkenly through his usual back-alley way, the shortcut to his father's mansion a few blocks away. Rian shook his head as if to clear it, but it only made him feel like he was going to pass out. The local taverns were dull entertainment compared to his usual haunts-but Freidian wine was like nothing he'd ever sampled! By the Gods it was potent! He brushed his curly, fair locks off his face and swallowed hard-and neatly tripped, sprawling onto the hard stone-paved ground.   
  
"What the..." Rian grumbled. Then looked again. His eyes widened and his jaw fell loosely at the sight of a young man, around his own age, lying on the ground unconscious...with a hideously bruised neck. What struck him most was that the young man was definitely not a common ruffian for no commoner could afford to sport leather uniform and boots.   
  
"Probably some noble man's son getting in trouble over some wench. Just hope she was pretty at least." Rian smirked. But despite his stupor, he had enough senses to hoist the unconscious stranger over his back and head toward his father's house.   
  
The look on the butler's face when the young master returned with a dead-weight body slung over his shoulders like a pack of flour was utterly ridiculous.   
  
"Hiya Bashant! Uh, is Mum around?" Rian puffed out, sweating a little from the exertion. The butler raised an eyebrow haughtily.  
  
"Lady Cassimey is with your sister in the drawing room. Shall I...?"  
  
"Yeah, yes! Immediately!"  
  
Before the middle-aged butler could reply, a musical voice cut in. It was the lady of the house.  
  
"Rian, you scoundrel, where have you been? Your father is so angry...my goodness, what has happened to your friend? Never mind, bring him into the antechamber! Lisette, run to your father to bring the physician over! Oh the poor boy!" Lady Cassimey rushed over to the front door and motioned to her son and their butler to bring the unconscious young man in.  
  
Once they were settled and waiting for the doctor, Lady Cassimey sighed and gazed down on Rian's friend's face. 'Such a handsome young lord,' she thought pityingly, 'how ever did he come upon those wounds? Ah, well, he'll be alright now.'  
  
********************  
  
"How are you feeling son? No don't try to talk just yet. I, I fear that you may not be able to talk for a long time. Your wind-pipe was damaged very badly, it's a miracle that you even survived."  
  
A pair of grayish green eyes regarded the doctor blankly.  
  
"Were you attacked? Please nod if yes." The doctor asked his newest patient. Silence. "Does your family live close to here?" Silence. "Do you...do you remember what happened?" The boy closed his eyes as if trying to block out something. He remembered nothing. Not his name, not his family. He didn't even know what he looked like. But there was something that he had to remember. Something that was vitally important. A name...but one that was just beyond his grasp. Exhausted, the young man drifted back to sleep.  
  
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Author's Note: So! What did you think?? Reviews are so sweet for me [BIG hint]. Let's see, so far I've nailed Zhongi, Dilly, and Migel into the series....it's a start. Come back to see how I've involved ALL the major characters into later chapters (at least that's my ultimate goal.) Tid-bit #2: Celena Schezar will be a major part of "Speak No Evil."  
  
I shall be continuing with "Marlene" (this is the series about how Marlene met Allen-yes, I've got a romantic streak!--and I've completed up to Part 3, Part 4, I'm ah, having some plot problems, but Marlene is personal favorite and I'm very fond of the story, so check it out if you haven't already.)   
  



	2. Speak No EvilCh2

Disclaimer: Escaflowne does not belong to me. The plot is mine though.  
  
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Chapter 2  
  
"I can't believe Migel's really gone." Chesta whispered to the others. They were in their barracks, wide-awake despite the late hour.   
  
"Me neither," Guimel murmured softly, "I always saw Migel as being invincible. He was the best pilot of us all. Even Lord Dilandau thought so. That's why he never yelled at Migel, because Migel always did everything right."  
  
Gatti looked away. Someone sighed.   
  
Flashback, in the throne room  
  
Dilandau could not stand still. He felt blinding rage rip at his heart.   
  
"How DARE he," his silvery hair shook with anger, "Disobey my orders! He was supposed to get out of Freid and join ranks-just who the hell told him to stay and fight?" Dilandau yelled at his kneeling slayers. The dragonslayers kept their faces averted to the floor, knowing from painful experience what Dilandau was capable of during one of his rages. Hopefully they could escape this time with minimal damages to their person.  
  
Dilandau paced back and forth, his boots softly clicking on the hard metallic floor. With no warning he flung a chair against the wall, another shared the same fate. Panting and sweating, the commander of the dragonslayers regarded the kneeling forms of his men. 'Gatti, Chesta, Dalet...they're...nothing compared to you. Why, Migel? Why did you always have to laugh at death?' Dilandau thought miserably. Just as lightning fast, he switched back to the emotions he was most comfortable with: fury and hatred.   
  
"It's Van's fault!" Dilandau spit the name out. "I HATE YOU VAN!! I hate you, you fucking bastard, I'm going to rip out your heart and BURN it in front of your eyes! And then I'm going to chop you to pieces and I'll burn that too!! Van, Van, Van. Why can't you just DIE? I...HATE...you...so...much!..."   
  
End flashback  
  
"Gods," Chesta flopped back onto his bed and buried his face into his pillow. His muffled voice broke the strained silence. "Lord Dilandau really lost it today, huh? Still, I can't imagine dying like that. I mean, being strangled. By a doppleganger. It's so horrible."  
  
Dalet snorted, "What, how do YOU want to die?"  
  
"Just what kind of question is that??" Chesta retorted.  
  
"Death by strangulation?" Dalet drawled, "Drowning? Poison? How about going down in a blaze of glory?" His biting words dripped with sarcasm. His amber eyes glared at the blond-haired slayer.  
  
"Stop it! I don't want to talk about this. Migel's dead!"  
  
"So? There was nothing we could have done about it." Dalet said. But despite his careless, cold words, his voice quivered suspiciously. Migel never did know what he had meant to Dalet. He had been...something of an ideal, and now, it was too late. Dalet cleared his throat roughly. "He made the choice to stay and fight. I don't suppose it ever occurred to him to just let it go...oh, to hell with you Migel! You stubborn son of a bitch." The rest of the slayers kept silent.  
  
"They never found his body. For all we know, those Freidian bastards just dumped him into a common grave."   
  
Chesta really did NOT want to hear anymore.   
  
Dalet spoke again, this time, his voice had returned to a semblance of his normal tone. He sounded almost conversational.   
  
"When we attack Fried, I am going to relish burning the city down with Lord Dilandau. Freid WILL be crushed and it WILL be conquered. And why does it feel like Migel's going to walk through that door any minute now. Migel. Migel Labariel. He died for Zaibach. For master Dilandau. I wonder how the rest of us can ever measure up to that."   
  
**************   
  
When Zaibach's army attacked Freid the next evening, the Cassimey household evacuated, along with many other families, out of the capitol city of Freid. Getting out of Fried was easy, but seeking to return into Asturia was much more difficult...no one but Asturian citizens could seek refuge in that kingdom.   
  
"Name?" The stern looking Asturian guard asked. Marius Cassimey frowned.  
  
"Look here, my name is Lord Marius Cassimey and I'm a personal friend and ambassador of King Aston!"  
  
"And I said NAME!"   
  
Swallowing his pride, Lord Cassimey replied curtly, "This is my wife Lady Asha Cassimey. My daughter Lisette, and my son Rian."  
  
"Who's the other one?" The guard pointed to the sleeping Migel.   
  
"He's...my nephew"   
  
Rian saw the skepticism on the guard's face and quickly came to his father's aid.  
  
"This bloke here's Desral. Des Cassimey." Rian ignored Lisette's incredulous gaze. They both knew that their cousin Desral had been killed nine years ago. Rian continued. "We had this really crazy horse race, see we kind of have this competition between the two of us, and Des fell off his horse and broke his leg. But Mum says it'll be ok--"  
  
The Asturian guard's eyes started to glaze over.   
  
"Right... You're cleared. Welcome back to Asturia."  
  
*************  
  
Three years later....   
  
A crackling fire was burning in the cozy salon at the Cassimey town house in Palas.   
  
"Stop worrying Lizzy, Desral's already passed all the tests." Lord Marius Cassimey told his daughter from his comfortable seat near the fireplace while Lady Asha continued tranquilly at her embroidery. But despite his comforting words, Lisette continued to keep a steadfast vigil at the large windows.   
  
"I'm sure Des was accepted. Today was a mere a formality, you know." Said Lisette's father.   
  
Lisette sighed. "Oh I know. I'm being silly, of course nothing could go wrong. But today IS such an important day for him. Where d'you suppose Des got those nerves of steel? I wish I could be as calm about it as he."  
  
The front door banged open, startling Lisette. In the next moment, Rian came into the room and gave his family an exaggerated bow. Grinning like a dolt, he announced with a flourish, "Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Her Majesty Queen Millerna's newest Knight Caeli, Desral Cassimey!"   
  
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A/N: See? I am bad at cliffhangers; hopefully you'll have liked this story enough to read on. Even though this chapter didn't have a lot of Migel in it, I thought it would be interesting to see how Dilandau and the fellow dragonslayers reacted to the news of his "death." And why Dalet? Because he seems like he could very well have both resented and admired Migel since the two were both high among Dilly's favorites, actually my first choice was Gatti-because they were both leader-types. But Dalet's so much more vain. Wow, you're still reading this note, ok! Hey, I can check off Van, Chesta, Dalet, Gatti and Princess Millerna from my list!!  
  
Thank you all SO much for the good reviews for Ch. 1 of "Speak No Evil"--The dragonslayers salute you!!!   



	3. Speak No EvilCh3

Disclaimer: [zzz] Escaflowne does not belong to me.   
  
Author's Note: Three years later which means Lisette Cassimey is 15, Migel and Celena are both 18.  
  
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Chapter 3  
  
Night at the Cassimey mansion in Palas  
  
Migel gazed at his sword laying in its black velvet case. The softly glowing candlelight shone off the blade, casting little cascades of light on the wall of his room. For some reason, despite the excitement of being made a Knight Caeli today, he felt gloomy and depressed, growing more so as the night progressed. 'What's wrong with me?" He thought. For the past year, he had trained hard to succeed. He was hailed as an exceptional student in the arts of war by the masters and had even caught the attention of Sir Allen Schezar. But somehow this achievement just didn't...feel...right. He felt like he was living another man's life, that this façade hid his true self-and what was his real identity? Will he ever know? Lost in his reverie, he missed the approaching steps.  
  
"Hi."   
  
Migel whipped around. It was only Lisette. She smiled tentatively at him.  
  
"You're still up." Migel stated softly. She shrugged and didn't meet his eyes. At fifteen years of age, her parents had long ago abandoned all concepts of curfews. With a swish of her yellow satin dress, Lisette sank uninvited on to Migel's favorite couch. She shook her straight blond hair forward to veil her eyes as she watched the young man standing tall by the mahogany table.   
  
She sighed. "I wish for once you could be...happy. You know Des, in the three years I've known you, I don't think I've ever heard you laugh."  
  
"But I laugh at Rian all the time." Migel responded, his tone lightly teasing but his green eyes glanced away.  
  
"Hey, that doesn't count. Oh never mind..." An uncomfortable silence stretched between them.   
  
Migel brushed his fingers over his sword. "I had that dream again." Lisette frowned.  
  
"The one where you were--"  
  
"Yes. I'm in the guymelef; it's night I think. Blood and fire fill my vision, and the stench is unbearable. I try to loosen my collar, and that's when I noticed that I can't move, I can't escape. And I realize, with perfect clarity, that I'm going to die--"  
  
"Please, Des." Lisette said quietly. These violent dreams of his frightened her, and she was unable to soothe him.   
  
"Sorry Lizzy, didn't mean to be such a damper. Cheer up." Migel walked over to her and patted her head, like he would to a pet. Lisette understood that it was his way of dismissing her. The intimate mood was gone anyway. Lisette got up and walked slowly to the door.   
  
"Will you be attending the dinner party at the Schezar's on the 15th?" Migel asked her.  
  
"Of course!"  
  
"Save me a dance?" She grinned at him in response and nodded happily.  
  
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Schezar's household, near dusk  
  
Celena Schezar gravely regarded her own reflection in the mirror. Fine, wavy flaxen hair framed her face; she brushed a tendril off her cheek. Her finger lazily traced a feather-light path down her smooth right cheek. Dark blue eyes became murky and unfocused.  
  
"Lord Dilandau, I don't think you should touch the wound." Gatti said nervously.  
  
"Shut up!" The force of the backhanded slap fell Gatti to the floor.  
  
And where was Gatti now? Oh yes, dead with the others...with Migel, the boy with the chestnut hair, jade green eyes and that oh so charming smile. Her heart twisted at the memory of his face, beautiful and noble. Dilandau's yearnings and sorrows came rushing back to her, how desperately he had wanted Migel to love him, not the puppy-like adoration of Chesta and the others, but.... How Dilandau had hated himself for not being able to demonstrate his emotions better and then it was all over before it even had a chance to take its first flight.   
  
"Damn you Van Fanel, you never even gave me a chance to say good-bye to him. To any of them." Had she just said that aloud? Lately, she had found it difficult of sieve out her thoughts from his, her words from his. Sometimes, she had trouble remembering her past life as Dilandau, and at other times, like today, the memories were so vivid that she seemed to be living them. 'There was such comforting certainty when I commanded the slayers. I knew what my role in the world was. I was confident. Oh, I'd give anything to live that life again. No more doubts about whether I really belonged here.' She thought.   
  
"Lady Celena?" A knock came at the doors. Celena snapped out of her musings.   
  
"Enter." Her voice was clear and steady. A maid came in, bowed politely enough and handed Celena a sealed note, it was from the Cassimey house.   
  
"Dear Sir Allen and Lady Celena Schezar,  
  
We thank you for your very kind invitation, but unfortunately, my husband and I will be unable to attend due to a previous engagement at the Government House. I am happy to say, however, that the rest of our family is looking forward to the party. Please expect the presences of Lady Lisette, Lord Rian and Sir Desral Cassimey on the 15th.  
  
Yours, etc.  
  
Lady Asha Cassimey"  
  
Celena folded the note into a tiny square and threw it disdainfully into the wastebasket. She disliked Lisette and her silly brother; they were much too...upbeat. She had never met their cousin Desral though. It was only within the past year or so that she had recovered somewhat from her experience as Dilandau, and there were still many courtiers she had not been introduced to. However, Allen had mentioned this Desral Cassimey on numerous occasions, usually in praise of his skills as a knight. It was about time she put a face on this much-mentioned Cassimey.  
  
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The 15th, Schezar household.  
  
"Oh Celena, this party is delightful!" Lisette exclaimed to her friend, meaning every word. Celena smiled, but her eyes remained distant. The two girls made quite a pretty picture standing together near the large open doors that led into the back gardens. Lisette looked like the personification of sunshine in her golden gown, her wheat coloured hair falling straight about her bared shoulders. In contrast, Celena was dressed in an ice-blue dress. Her fair skin and pale, silver hair was pulled back from her face with diamond combs, dramatically enhancing her large, sapphire eyes, and delicate face.   
  
From the corner of her eye, Celena caught her brother conversing with the Princess Eries, discussing state affairs, and no doubt about the young Duke of Freid's unprecedented decision to open trade with the new Zaibach Empire.  
  
Lisette's eyes suddenly lit up, and unconsciously, she smoothed her hair. The reason for this was that a young man near Celena's age was striding over to the two girls. 'I've seen those eyes before.' Celena thought to herself.  
  
"Oh Desral, you came after all! And late as usual." Lisette teased, "No matter, here, let me introduce my dear friend to you. This is Lady Celena Schezar. Celena, my cousin, Desral Cassimey." Lisette turned to Celena with a grin.  
  
"I'm dreaming," Celena whispered harshly "I'm dreaming. I must be dreaming." Celena felt semi-hysterical laughter bubble up within her. Lisette looked at her friend in confusion, what was going on here? Migel paled and became aware of a dizzying sense of déjà vu.   
  
"Celena, are you alright?" Lisette asked very concerned.   
  
"Oh! I'm...I'm fine. I just felt faint for a moment. Could I trouble you into getting me a drink?"   
  
"Oh, I'll go at once." Lisette hurried off. Celena watched Lisette disappear into the crowd and thought acidly, 'Yes, go way little girl, and never bother us again!' Finally, after three long years, she (or was it he?) was reunited with Migel.  
  
Celena took a step closer to Migel. She brought her palm up to gently touch his flushed cheek. Instinctively, he flinched. Her lips curved into a smile that was half sweet, half feral.  
  
"I know who you are...Migel, Migel Labariel..." She murmured to him, "But why the silly pretense?"  
  
Migel blinked, tiny disjointed shards of memories came flooding back to him.  
  
"...We attack Fanelia at dusk..."  
  
"...Dragonslayers ready!..."  
  
"...Migel!!..."   
  
Dilandau.   
  
  
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Author's Note: Yep, the old Migel is baaaaaaaack! No more Mr. Nice Guy, from now on, it's war cough Van cough.   
  
Thanks Sakura.  
  
Crystal, you'd better be reading this ;-)  
  
THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEWS FOR CH.2!! HOPE YOU LIKED CH.3!   



	4. Speak No EvilCh4

Disclaimer: Esca belongs to Sunrise, ad nauseum.

Previously In Ch.3 of "Speak" Migel recovers his memories after an encounter with Celena Schezar three years after his supposed "death"....

Author's Note: indicates flashbacks. Meyman Saluria--you are a terrible guesser.

My computer has a personal vendetta against me. 

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Speak No Evil-Ch.4

Resumes from where Ch.3 left off, Schezar's party, Palas 

Celena puckered a brow and stared at Migel. He had grown in both height and stature since he had served Dilandau, but his hair was the same chestnut brown, and his eyes, still that intense green.

"Stop gawking at me," Celena whispered to Migel, "You're starting to attract attention." When he kept on looking at her with awed eyes, she lost her patience. Celena made her voice very dramatic. "Yes, it is I, Dilandau. Just, never mind the hows, it's complicated. Understood?" 

"Yes." Migel managed to say. Allen's sister sounded and acted incredibly like Dilandau.

"There is one thing I don't understand," She said slowly, "They told me you were dead. Killed by that disgusting little doppleganger."

"Zhongi." Migel said with a shudder. Despite the heat of the ballroom, Migel felt a chill run down his back. He gulped in air as if to reassure himself that he was still breathing. Out of morbid curiosity, Migel asked the strange girl beside him what ever happened to his assassin. Celena shrugged her slim shoulders delicately and threw him a flirtatious glance. "Dilandau ... played with him for a little while before snuffing him out like the bug he resembled. That doppleganger screamed for much longer than you would expect. Of course, Dilandau found the incident most amusing." Migel gave an answering smile. "I--"

"No, we can't speak here; far too many prying eyes. Follow me." Celena led the way through a pair of tall glass doors which opened to reveal the back garden. The moonlight was quite romantic, though courtship was the furthest thing from both their minds.

"Well? Aren't you going to tell me what happened?" Celena demanded when they were alone-and for a moment, Migel saw again, not Allen's sister, but his former commanding officer.

"I was injured. Loss of memory brought about by my attack. I'm sorry." Migel said quietly. Celena rolled her eyes and smirked.

"And now you're a knight Caeli--how convenient. I'm starting to think that maybe you quit on us because you didn't want to fight the war anymore." Her eyes glittered dangerously. Migel clenched his jaws and exhaled. This had to be the strangest conversation he had ever had. And yet, here in the ambiguity of the moonlight, it was easy, almost natural, to think he WAS talking to Dilandau.

"I would never have abandoned you." Migel said emphatically. His words seemed to please the silver haired girl beside him.

"Dalet was very upset when he found out about your 'death.'" She said casually. At the mention of his friend, Migel's face lit up.

"Dalet! Where's he now?" Migel asked, his voice warm as if he was smiling.

"8 feet, 3 inches under."

"What?"

"God, do I have to spell it out? He's dead."

"Dead! Dead." Migel echoed in shock, "Then where's Chesta?"

"Dead."

"Ga...Gatti?"

"Dead. They're all dead. All of them. Every single fucking one." Celena's coldly mechanical voice rang through Migel's head. This didn't make any sense. He could SEE them in his mind's eye perfectly. He suddenly remembered something utterly irrelevant: that he never did give back Gatti's book. 

"Gatti, old man, stop looking after those tomes like they were your children." Migel had teased.

"Ha! You're just jealous 'cause I'm so smart!" Gatti retorted.

Migel thought numbly, his friends...they were all gone? He felt like he'd woken up into a nightmare. Migel tried to swallow and asked, "They died in the war?" Celena seemed to find that very funny--but her giggles had tears behind them. "You mean 'did they go down in a blaze of glory'? Hardly; they were massacred in a single battle." Celena shrugged. "Incompetent fools." 

Migel glared at her. "Don't speak of them like that!"

"DON'T talk to ME in that tone!" Celena snapped back.

"They were you're men--how can you be so cold? I thought you cared about them!" 

Without warning, Celena slapped him so hard, his bangs shook into his eyes. Celena's china-blue eyes widened. "Oh! I'm...sorry." Migel starred at her in shock. Dilandau NEVER apologized. Just who the hell was she? Dilandau? Or just some silly aristocratic girl playing with fire. Migel gave her a withering look and began to walk away. Celena flew to his side immediately and clutched at his shoulders. Her surprisingly strong fingers dug into his flesh.

"Oh please, Migel-don't go." Her voice was softer now, almost husky. 

"Excuse me." Migel shook her hands off him and continued walking away.

"It was Van! He murdered them." 

Migel stopped abruptly. Celena began to talk quickly. "One of the scouts reported that the Crusade had been spotted. I told the unit to get into the melefs and give chase. It was easy to spot the ship, practically dangling in the air for us to shoot down. But we only wanted the Dragon, remember? So I gave orders to land. There were fifteen of us altogether, against one melef. It was supposed to be easy! But, but something happened. Escaflowne was more powerful than anything I'd ever seen. He was like a madman--that butcher! Chesta was the first. Poor Chesta..." Celena's voice broke and a tear tickled from the corner of her eye. "He had been so upset that morning because I'd called him a mush-room head." 

Celena suddenly raised her tearful eyes pleadingly to Migel. "Well, his hair looked like a mushroom!" She said rather defensively, then she glanced away again. "The boy was always so damn earnest. Baby blue eyes. Much too soft and innocent to have served Dilandau ... he ... he cried out my name when his melef was destroyed. He said my name, with his last breath." Celena's voice had dropped to a whisper. She began to sob silently.

Migel looked at her hesitantly. Should he go over to her? 

"Gatti was next. He--at least--tried to fight. So did Dalet. The others were too shocked to react fast enough. Didn't matter in the end. They were mauled down one by one. I think I lost my mind then. Maybe I began to first lose it when they told me you were dead ... oh Migel, if you had been there that day, maybe...." At Celena's unspoken accusation, Migel felt guilt and shame wash over him. He was racked with self-doubts, if he'd been there at Dilandau's side, if he hadn't lost his memory, if he'd escaped Freid...would Dalet, Gatti, and Chesta be here today? Celena was right. He HAD abandoned his comrades: he felt terrible.

"Their deaths must be avenged. The Dragon must be destroyed." She told Migel quietly. Migel nodded slowly in agreement. 

"For the Dragonslayers...." Celena watched Migel carefully.

"For the Dragonslayers." Migel repeated, his voice was coldly decisive. 

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Author's Note: The plot thickens. Celena Schezar is a very difficult character to define. I've drawn her as a girl who shares Dilandau's memories but not his...shall we say...charm? She is NOT a victim of her past, instead, a willing participant. She's strong-willed and spiteful ... but she lacks Dilandau's soldierly essence. (LLPR, right?) For those who are interested, my other series, "Marlene" is starting to pick up steam--though school may prove to be a problem. THANKS FOR REVIEWING CH.3--IT SERIOUSLY GAVE ME THE ENCOURAGEMENT TO WRITE MORE, ASAP.

REVIEW CH.4!!!


	5. Speak No EvilCh5

Disclaimer: Escaflowne is the product of Sunrise, etc.

Previously Migel learnt of his comrades' deaths…and he's out for revenge.

Author's Note: This chapter is a sort of transitional chapter, i.e. short.

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Speak No Evil--Ch.5

"Revenge is a dish best served cold."

2 months after Schezar's party: Cassimey household, Palas

From the upstairs window of her bedroom, Lisette regarded the street below. Rolling, gray clouds, the heralds of rain, dimmed the early afternoon sun. A slight frown marred the smoothness of her face as she was gazing intently at a couple slowly walking away from the Cassimey residence. The tall young knight bent his head down slightly as his flaxen haired companion whispered something in his ear. This slight gesture, quite innocent by all standards, made Lisette extremely annoyed. Unconsciously her eyes narrowed. 

"Liz?" She turned around. It was only Rian. Her brother looked slightly rumpled, his curly blond hair had not been combed, and his tan-coloured shirt was wrinkled. In contrast, Lisette looked the epitome of a lady. She made it a personal policy to always greet the world in style, to her mother's approval and father's pride. 

"Liz what's wrong?" Rian asked quietly. Lisette tensed. Could she trust Rian to be discreet? When Rian saw that she seemed to be ignoring him, he shrugged and turned to leave. When he was one step out of the door, his sister finally spoke.

"Desral is keeping something from us." Her tone was flat—almost cold. Her brother shrugged, "So? You can't expect him to tell you everything that's going on in his life."

"That's not what I meant Rian. He's changed, haven't you seen the transition?" Lisette asked. "He was always reserved," she said, "but now he's…secretive. And when I ask him what's wrong, he coldly brushes me off. He's withdrawn and uncommunicative. Except when he's around Celena. Except Celena." Her voice trailed off into a whisper. 

"Liz—" Rian began.

"I'm telling you Rian those two are up to something." She was convinced of it.

"Liz—"  
  


"And I'm going find out what."

"Liz—" 

"And if you tell anyone—"

"Liz!! Calm down! I'm NOT going to anyone, alright?" Rian shook his head in wonder. He had never seen his little sister get so worked up about something. Lisette nodded solemnly. She trusted her brother. 

"Will you help me?" She asked him.

"Is that a rhetorical question?" Rian replied with a grin.

________________________________________________________________________

"The Dragon will be arriving in a three days." Celena told Migel. They had walked to the waterfront that was appropriately secluded. Migel leaned against the railings and watched a cargo ship slowly approach the harbor. The ports of Palas were busy as usual.

"Did you hear me?" She asked impatiently.

"Van won't be returning to Fanelia this time." Migel said decisively. 

"Oh he'll return alright," Celena said with a smirk, "in pieces. Burnt to a crisp." Her eyes became unfocused and foggy as she allowed herself to picture the gruesome scene. For the hundredth time. She sighed contentedly; soon, her daydream will become a reality. "I'll do my part, Migel, just don't forget yours." 

He gave her a half-smile, but his eyes remained cold, like hard emeralds. "I won't forget. I shall never forget."

________________________________________________________________________

Author's Note: Hey! Sorry this chapter was kind of short but I've been working on my website: Zaibach Soldier! (It's a shrine to Migel…now why haven't I surprised you? ^_^) Come visit it, eh? I got into the escaboys collective yesterday—yahoo! Oh, and don't forget to sign the guest-book :)

Lisette is quite precocious…and you know what they say; "curiosity killed the cat." Ha! That's a cliffhanger for ya. 


	6. Speak No EvilCh6

Disclaimer: Escaflowne and all derivations of its product belong to Sunrise, Bandai, etc.

Author's Note: I just _know_ if I don't finish this series soon I'll never get it done…BTW, if I could, I would truly adopt Prince Chid. He's just a sweetie-pie.

Background: In the last chapter, we see Lisette become increasingly suspicious of Migel and Celena..

________________________________________________________________________

Speak No Evil—Ch.6

By: Remalna Marguerite

Lisette Cassimey nervously smoothed back her hair. She wanted to bolt out of the antechamber. Mentally, she berated herself for her imprudence; who did she think she was to seek a private audience with the Duke of Freid at a moment's notice? Her thoughts were interrupted when a servant of the Royal household coughed and discreetly motioned for her to follow him. The heels of her riding boots clicked against the hard, marble floor. After what seemed an eternity, she finally neared the great doors of the audience chamber. The servant announced her, then gestured for her to enter.

"Hello Lady Lisette, how can I help you?" The young Duke of Freid asked her politely. Despite his young age, Lisette could not help but be awed. Here was the _ruler_ of one of the most famous Duchies in Gaea, and despite her father being the former ambassador to Freid, she knew quite clearly that her family connections were far inferior to the Freids.

"I…I. My father does not know I'm here." She said lamely. The young Duke smiled at her. She smiled back, relaxing somewhat.

"I'm seeking permission to the National Archives." Lisette explained. Chid crinkled his eye-brows a little. 

"The Archives? If you don't mind, may I ask why?" 

"My…my friend, he was orphaned in the Great War. He was Freidian, and it's only recently that he--my friend--has decided to look into what happened the night he was separated from his family." She prayed the lie sounded convincing. The blond-haired young boy nodded absently. He seemed to be absorbed in thought. "I doubt you would find anything worthwhile at the Archives—it's in terrible disarray. But," Chid said with a grin, "I could help you hunt down the papers if you'd like."

"Oh, but I would be taking you away from your—"

"Duties? It's all right…I want to do this for you and your poor friend. I do remember the loyal services of your father, and I shall be glad to return the favour." Lisette could not help but be impressed. 'Well said' she thought to herself. He seemed to have an innate grace of diplomacy that even a skilled diplomat would envy. She sank into a deep 

curtsy—her skirt, pooling about her--and rose up just as gracefully. 

**************

It was nearly dusk and Lisette had found nothing that could help her discover _anything _about Desral's past. She sighed heavily. From behind a mountain of papers, Chid glanced up at her. He noted the pallor of her cheeks and the quickness of her breathing and guessed quite correctly she was near an emotional breakdown. 

"I'm sorry."He told her quietly. Lisette nodded and tried to quench down tears of frustration. Her parents were going to kill her for disappearing like that. Even if she got on the nearest transport back to Palas, she would arrive too late for the dinner party the family had planned to attend. She knew that as an ambassador's daughter, she had certain crucial obligations to fulfill—such as attending whatever functions her father deemed necessary. 

"Is there _anything_ you can recall that you haven't told me yet?" Chid asked carefully, not wanting to upset Lisette further. "For example, do you recall exactly where your brother found Desral? Anything that seems unimportant." 

"I…I can't remember. I—no. No wait a moment. The house my father had rented was quite near town's square."

"The big rose-bricked one?"

"Yes. That one."

"Hmm…that's very close to the palace garrisons."

"And my brother found Desral one day before the Zaibach army attacked Freid."

"One day? But right up to the Zaibach attack, everything was very peaceful. I just can't see how he could have suffered such an attack _before_ the battle." 

Lisette bit her lip. Suddenly, Chid scrambled to his feet. "Wait! Wait a minute! I *do* recall something that was out of the ordinary…but I can't see how it might connect to your friend. One night before Zaibach attacked, Allen Schezar's crew captured a Zaibach soldier. I *think* he was one of the more elite soldiers of their army. On the same day you say your friend was discovered, that Zaibach soldier had tried to escape. There was a great commotion in the town square, in fact. A guymelef fight I believe. Well, his body was never found, so we all just assumed he'd been killed in the fighting." At Chid's words, Lisette's eyes widened in shock. Suddenly, it all made perfect sense to her. A melef fight. That would explain Desral's leg wound. A violent melef battle. That would explain his strange, bloody dreams…and his apparent loss of memory. For three years, her parents, Asturia's most loyal citizens, had been harboring a wanted war criminal. She wanted to laugh at the irony, and cry at the pain of her heart shattering. "I don't suppose you could remember what the soldier's name was…" She said off-handedly. To her surprise, Chid nodded eagerly.

"Yes. Yes I do. I recall it quite clearly for Boris and I had been interrogating him personally. Migel. Migel Labariel. That was his name."

_______________________________________________________________________

Author's Note: I *apologize* for writing such a short chapter. But I thought that was a nice little cliffhanger for ya. Lisette: she's a plucky girl…but _former_ dragonslayer or not, Migel will not let anything or _anyone_ get in the way of his carefully planned revenge. And that, is my big hint for the day. Stay tuned! And if you've enjoyed reading this series, please send me a note, or write a review. Thanks!!


	7. Speak No EvilCh7

Disclaimer: Escaflowne and all its derivations belong to Sunrise, Bandai, etc. However, characters Lisette, Rian, Lady & Lord Cassimey are mine! Do not use without permission, but you knew that already...right? ^_^  
  
[Background]: In the very last installment, Migel's identity was uncovered...here's where the real *action* comes in.  
  
[Author's Note]: Sorry the last chapter was really short, and the annoying (was it annoying?) cliff-hanger at the end, all I can say is that this series will hit its finale in the next couple of chapters. Oh, and that this chapter will compensate for the shortness of the last two. Hmm...I saw that someone (not at ff.net) didn't like the character Liz Cassimey, so in review, could you also tell me *your* opinion of her? Anyway, hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I did writing it!  
  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
Speak No Evil-Ch.7  
By: Remalna Marguerite   
[BTW] if anyone has Folken-related fics/art they'd like to submit to my shrine to Folken [http://strategos.homestead.com/Strategos.html], just tell me in the review and I'll e-mail you about it]  
  
******  
Evening  
  
"Miss, we're almost there."  
  
The captain of the air-transport ship informed Lisette politely. She nodded to him silently, her mind still in turmoil. In less than ten minutes she would arrive back home. She wasn't sure what the best course of action was...her instincts dictated that she went to her father and the authorities immediately...but that would mean Des-Migel's-arrest...and...eminent execution. The heart wrestled with the mind. Lisette's hands clenched so tight, her fingernails painfully dug into her palm. The minutes ticked by...what to do...what to do...  
  
******  
  
Celena Schezar watched the Fanelian King through half-veiled eyes. Van was standing stiffly a little way from the large gathering of courtiers and despite the festivities of the room, he kept up a distant front. Celena saw this as arrogance and fury unfurled in her chest nearly chocking her breath. By the Gods how she hated that man. She couldn't stand his presence. Van was oblivious to the gaze of pure revulsion she directed at him. She had managed to convince Allen to allow her to come to the welcoming reception at the Aston's Residence...honestly, she could twist her brother around her little finger much too easily. 'Migel, do *not* disappoint me again.' She thought to herself, and then threw a darting glance to the clock sitting on the upper balcony of the marbled Residence. It was almost time. Swallowing her feelings, her pride, she began to walk toward the King. Van saw her approach him and stiffened almost imperceptibly.   
  
"Lady Celena." He bowed slightly over her proffered hand. His unruly, longish hair brushed the back of her hand. She inhaled sharply and resisted the urge to pull away.   
  
"Your Highness..." She smiled at him charmingly. They had never met before, not face to face like this. She was faintly surprised at how well he controlled his emotions, nearly as well as Folken had.   
  
"I am so *honored* to meet the famous ruler of Fanelia." Celena kept her voice lightly teasing. Van relaxed slightly, perhaps he needn't worry about Allen's sister after all. She seemed quite normal, if a little bit frivolous.   
  
"Please, Van is fine."  
  
"Oh dear, I couldn't call you that..."   
  
"Why ever not?"  
  
"It would be too...intimate, I've only *just* met you after all." She lowered her voice and drew closer to his side. "And Allen Schezar's sister must be a model of virtue..." Van narrowed his eyes. He wasn't sure if the girl was being ironic.   
  
"You hold virtue highly then." He tested her.  
  
"In the highest regard, of course." She dimpled.  
  
"And honour? Kindness? What about innocence?" His voice began to take on a hard edge. Celena merely smiled at him again, and made to move away. Predictably, he did not stay behind. "I wasn't finished." He said, unaware of how he had made the comment sound like a command. Celena merely weaved her way through the crowds, deftly around a half-drunk courtier here, and overly loud lord there. Van pursued. He turned a corner abruptly, and found himself in an alcove of the palace. Without warning he felt the back of his head explode in a blaze of pain...then nothing.  
  
******  
  
The house was dark. Eerily silent. Then again, she hadn't expected to encounter anyone ... they were all at the festivities. Lisette opened the front door and quickly stepped inside. She fumbled with a match to light the candle which she found in the drawer of the desk of the foyer. The weak glow of candlelight illuminated her path. She climbed the great stairs to her bedroom where she intended to change her stained traveling dress for an evening gown, her black one, she decided. Black. The only appropriate colour for what she was about to do. With long strides, gaining confidence with each step, Lisette quickly walked down the second floor hallway.   
  
"You shouldn't be here."   
  
Lisette gasped, her heart pounding wildly as she swirled around at the sound of the cool, detached voice. Her eyes widened betraying her shock. Migel stood just three meters away from her, his face was hidden by the shadows.   
  
"I said you shouldn't be here, Liz." He was completely serious, almost wooden sounding.  
  
"I...I." She licked her dry lips, "I could say the same. Desral."  
  
"Where were you?"  
  
"What do you mean."  
  
"You were gone all day. Where did you go."  
  
"I went to visit my friend."  
  
"In Freid? Interesting, I didn't know you still had friends there."   
  
He knows. He *knows*. The pretense was over, for the both of them. "You should've let things be." Migel told her almost sadly. "This didn't have to involve you. Why couldn't you just let things be?" Without waiting for him to finish his sentence, she dropped the candle and bolted down the stairs. One more step and she would've reached the bottom-but just then-Migel caught up to her. He grabbed at her arm, toppling her off-balance. Instead of letting her go sprawling onto the hard floor, he yanked her hard against his chest. His arms wrapped around her, immobilizing her struggles.  
  
"You're trembling. You heart is beating so fast." He whispered. Her breathing quickened from her alarm. "You risked your life, and you don't even know why. Shall I tell you? You do have a right to know...my name...is Migel Labariel. As you doubtlessly know, I was a soldier before I was a knight. Part of the dragonslayer unit. We were glorious. We didn't answer to anyone except our commander-"  
  
"You were killers." She told him flatly. "Zaibach ruined so many lives."  
  
"I...I know. But, in the heat of battle-"   
  
"I'm not talking about when you fought other soldiers! Were you one of those...those *glorious* dragonslayers who murdered five hundred Fanelians? Or perhaps you were the one who razed Palas to the ground! Well? Answer me!"   
  
"I..."  
  
"You lied to me. You *lied* to my parents. How dare you even think to put on the uniform of a knight Caeli! Let go of me!" Lisette renewed her struggles, desperately trying to loosen his grasp. He merely tightened his hold on her arms. It was useless. She couldn't get him to understand.  
  
"I hate who you were." She finally said. He cringed at her words. "But I can't hate you for who you've become. We've lived in the same house for over three years...and I know you want.... I've always trusted you."  
  
"But not anymore."  
  
"Perhaps. Still."  
  
"You shouldn't though. It's not wise to trust a villain."  
  
"But you're not a villain."  
  
"Don't be foolish. You know what I'm capable of. I could snap your neck easily with one hand, and wait for the rest of your family to come back and kill them too." She refused to be guiled by his words.   
  
"No you won't."  
  
"How do you know? Why do you still continue to believe my word?"  
  
"Because...because..."  
  
"Never mind-"  
  
"Because I love-" But her confession was silenced when Migel dipped his head and captured her lips in a kiss. Her eyes widened in surprise, then fluttered closed.   
  
"Migel..." She murmured, her vision slightly blurry. He was silent. "Migel...?" Suddenly she stiffened in pain and a gasp tore from her throat. Migel caught her deftly in his arms just as her knees buckled and her body slumped forward. He carried her still form into the drawing room, and laid her gently on the sofa. He brushed his hands over her face, his fingers tracing her closed lids...lingering upon her lips.   
  
"Too late." Migel told the empty room. "I'm always too late." He stood up and walked away.  
  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
Author's Note: There were a lot of half-finished sentences in this chapter that I *hope* everyone knew what they were alluding to. If you've read some of my other fics, you might see a pattern: I like to pair Celena with Van (blame it on "Never Forgotten") and I guess Speak is not so different. Admitedly, Van & Celena do not actually have a peachy elationship right now...*ahem* This fic is for Migel at any rate ^_^ What's going to happen next? Who's going to make it, who isn't? My lips are mum. Not telling! Please review, it means a lot to me. I hope the last part wasn't too abrupt. [and I never write this long A/N, just that people have been so kind in their reviews...so I thought you might be interested in some of my opinions. Hope that wasn't too hoity-toity of me to assume that. Review!!   
  
  
  



	8. Speak No EvilCh8

**Speak No Evil -- Ch.8 (the final chapter)**

By: Remalna

Notes: I wrote most of this chapter in 2002. Dropped it. Then finished it off in the last days of 2004. Thank you for reading this; it was my first piece of creative fiction.

* * *

The moon hung over the countryside of Palas, illuminating the abandoned roadside. None of the peasants were foolish enough to be out and about at this time of night. Yet a single carriage flew down the road, scattering loose stones under its wheels, leaving a dusty trail in its wake.

Safely ensconced in the carriage box, Celena stared at the unconscious young man sprawled across the opposite seat. He was still out cold from the blow to the head. Even in the dim moon light, she could see a patch of drying blood in his fine, dark hair. She watched the gentle rise and fall of his breathing and let her gaze sweep across his face. How dare he look so peaceful when he inspired such rage in her heart? She let out a sharp kick to his leg with her booted foot. No response. Impatiently, Celena kicked him even harder, in the shin this time. At last, he stirred a little. Sooty lashes flickered open and a pair of smoky caramel eyes blinked blurrily into her icy blue ones.

"Pleasant dreams?" She drawled, sounding every inch the bored aristocrat. Van blinked again into alertness. His eyes were gritty, his head hurt, and further, he had lost all feelings to his hands because of the tight ropes that bound them. He struggled to sit upright despite the rocking of the carriage and shot an incredulous look to the girl sitting across from him.

"My Lady, do you realize what you have done?" He asked her carefully.

Celena gave a delicate shrug of her small shoulders, "My Lord, do _you_ realize what a silly question that is? If I didn't know what I was doing, then I wouldn't be doing it in the first place."

Van shook his head in disbelief. "Even Allen won't be able to save your neck this time." Van told her softly. The silver-haired girl tilted her head back and laughed. It was one of the most chilling sounds he had ever heard: he heard Dilandau behind that laugh.

"I hope you'll still be laughing when they lead you to be hanged." He ground out angrily.

"'Hanged?'" She rolled the word around in her mouth.

"Release me!" He commanded her. Celena shook her head, tumbling her silvery hair about her face.

"This isn't a game, Celena!"

"Really." She replied dryly.

"Where are you taking me?" Van demanded.

Her lips twiched.

"Do you realize the dishonour you bring to the Schezar name--."

"Oh shut up, and stop being so silly. Dear Allen will never know about tonight's little adventure. No one will. There will be a lengthy investigation, I think. Perhaps, there will even be some political backlash from the Fanelians. But the brouhaha will pass with time, and next year, you will all have been…forgotten as yet another King of Fanelia to die prematurely."

Van snorted. "You're mad."

"No," Celena replied evenly, "I'm not."

"Yes you are," he shot back, "at least Dilandau was honest in his hatred. He was a crazy bastard, but at least he fought me like a man." Van informed her acidly.

Celena's eyes glistened in the darkness. Tears? Was it possible that his words had struck a chord in her?

"If…if you're acting against your will," Van began softly, "…if you're being controlled, somehow--" She moved lightening swift to yank him forward, by the hair, bringing his face inches from her own. Her eyes were wide and hungry. Her pupils were dilated wide, as if she was heavily drugged. "You stupid backward village idiot. You don't _understand _after all I hate you. I, Celena Schezar, hate you. Leave Dilandau out of this!"

Abruptly, she pushed him away. His head hit the hard back-board with a dull crack.

Celena inhaled sharply with barely suppressed fury. How had she lost control of the situation so fast? Van was too dangerous, even tied up and at her mercy, he could slither his way in her head…and if she wasn't careful…he could ruin everything.

"Well. It doesn't matter what you think of me. Before the night is done, you'll have nothing further to worry about, _your majesty_." She managed to regain a semblance of composure before settling once more in her seat, mentally struggling to shut Van's voice out from her head. 'Mad…' his words permeated her mind, "mad."

- - - - -

Migel walked swiftly down the dark streets, keeping to the shadows. The night wind whipped at his face, tearing his eyes and chilling his face. He was tired. Tired of pretending to believe that Celena's revenge would release him from the guilt he felt from the Dragonslayers' deaths. Tired of believing in Celena. Dilandau was irreplaceable … Dilandau was dead. Migel knew now that he was the only surviving Dragonslayer. He'd been too cowardly to admit the truth to himself, because it felt terrible to be all alone. Perhaps he could just disappear. Go to Egzardia, anywhere far away from Asturia. No one could trace him there; and he'd never have the chance to hurt anyone again. He could leave all his mistakes behind him, abandon his former life, and start a new one afresh. Migel stopped walking.

_Running away? A Dragonslayer never runs away when the heat is on._

"Damned legacy." Migel muttered into the silent night. He shot a swift, wistful glance toward the direction of the harbour…but he felt compelled to tie up the loose ends before he left. Afterwards, he reasoned, he would truly be free to pursue this new life. He was supposed to meet up with Celena in less than an hour's time, in the orchard of the ruins of an old church. He'd better get walking if he was to be on time.

- - - - -

Many historic houses had collapsed under the fighting strain of the Great War. The little stone church, just past the city's outskirts had once been the place where the town folks had traveled to for those special religious holidays. But in the three years since the War, it had become dilapidated and abandoned. The roof had caved in, and the stain-glass windowpanes were broken and muddy, a place once of sanctity was now dirtied. The crescent moon illuminated the broken path to the church, casting creeping shadows across the stone-paved path.

Celena didn't like waiting for Migel here. She'd never liked the darkness. Suddenly, she remembered something: Dilandau had been convinced that, should he ever die, he would die bathed in the light of the moon. She shivered as the chilly night air penetrated her traveling dress. Strangely, Van's presence abated some of her fears of the night.

She stole a quick glance in his direction, to make sure he would not try to escape—she told herself. Celena tossed a wayward curl over her shoulder and to pace, back and forth, back and forth. The hard heels of her boots clicked on the stone path. The forest was silent.

Van pretended not to notice her gaze, and slowly, painfully slowly, began to work at the ropes that bound his hands. Van twisted at his bonds, he could feel them loosening, there. His hands were nearly free.

"So. Who are we waiting for?" Van asked her out of curiosity, still keeping his hands behind himself. She jumped at the sound of his voice. Breathing out slowly, Celena told him not to talk. Van noted the slight quiver in her voice. She was losing her nerve.

"Don't you think I have a right to know who my executioner is?" He demanded haughtily.

"Why do you assume that I will not kill you myself?" She snapped back.

Van grinned, "what? Her ladyship soiling her pristine, court gloves? I don't think so."

Celena laughed and held up her hands. She was not wearing any gloves.

Unimpressed, Van asked, "he's late, isn't he."

"Why don't you shut up?"

"Why would he be late? Unless he double-crossed you, took the money and left you for the authorities…?"

"Gods, how you do chatter!" She didn't know what was wrong, but Migel should have been here a while ago. She needed him here. She could feel her focus abandoning her with each passing moment.

"Ridiculous, why is that women are as dumb as a cows when it comes to planning anything other than dinner seating?"

Celena's eyes blazed. She gritted her teeth and stalked to where he was sitting. She raised her hand and brought it down with such force across Van's cheek that she knocked him to the ground. Van wasted no time. He quickly hooked his foot around her ankle and tripped her. Celena instinctively reached her hands to grasp for support, her fingers found only air: she toppled backwards. The impact with the solid, stony ground knocked the breath out of her. But she tried to get up. Too fast.

Van watched impassively as Celena lost the struggle to stay conscious. He did not feel satisfaction. He hoped the knock was not too bad. Awkwardly, Van rolled to his knees, then to his feet. He knelt beside Celena, uncertain of what to do now. It was the perhaps the first time he had been in a fight with a woman before. Irrationally, he was struck by a wave of self-loathing and guilt.

"My God, what did you do to her?"

Van swirled around at the sound of the new voice. Directly behind him, only meters away, stood a tall young man dressed in black. It was too dark to make out his face, but from the long sword he had at his belt, Van knew that this must be Celena's accomplice.

"You're late. Sorry you had to miss the action," Van said, dark humour tinged his voice.

"Did you kill her? Did you murder her?" Migel demanded harshly. Without ceremony, he withdrew his sword. Van stiffened and rose to his feet. He was unarmed, of course. Celena had seen to that detail.

The edge of the sword gleamed wickedly in the moonlight.

"Answer me!" Migel spat out.

The King of Fanelia answered quietly; contemptuously, "you fool, of course I didn't kill her. I doubt a fall like that could have snuffed out the likes of Celena Schezar." Van pointed vaguely to Celena's fallen form. Migel pushed past the other man and rushed to the girl's side. He knelt, on his knees, beside her body. Hesitantly, he reached out his free hand and gently felt her head the wound. Sure enough, his fingers soon felt the beginnings of a lump forming at the back of her head. Next, he pressed two fingers to the side of her throat. The pulse was faint, but steady. He was more concerned about the possibility of a concussion.

"So you are attacking girls now." Still kneeling, Migel threw a venomous glance at the Van.

Van blew out an exasperated sigh. "I had an opening. I took it. Forgive me if I lack the desire to be part of your little assassination game. You must be her tardy accomplice, what took you so long to get here anyway?"

The hot surge of anger burst like a bubble, leaving a strange dead calm in its wake. Instead of answering, Migel swiftly bundled his jacket into a make-shift pillow for Celena.

"So, why are you late?" Van persisted.

"Traffic. Too many farmers clogging up the streets at two in the morning." Migel replied. He drew his cloak over Celena's body, and pulled at the corners until the black fabric covered her like a blanket. The silver in her hair fanned across the inky grass like strands of light. In her unconscious state, her features were softened. The normally sharp cheekbones were rounded by the shadows, and her closed eyes shut out the hard glint that constantly lurked in those chilly gray-blue depths.

Migel heard the crunch of footsteps.

"She looks…" Van cleared his throat.

"Innocent." The former Dragonslayer finished, his eyes caressed the unconscious girl's features.

"Ah. You're in love with her."

Migel smiled grimly and tilted his head at an angle to look at the other man. "Why do say that?"

Van shrugged. "Either you're a madman, following her half-cooked plan out of fanatical devotion…or you're madly in love with her to have followed her daft orders to attempt to assassinate me. You don't look crazy to me."

He had to give Fanel the credit, Migel thought; despite his roughness, the Fanelian king was not a fool.

Migel rose to his full height, a full head taller than the other young man. "You don't recognize me, I'm not surprised. Do you remember Dilandau's Dragonslayers unit?" Migel asked.

"Gods. How could I forget them?" The most powerful weapon Zaibach that had thrown at them, Van still had dreams that replayed in excruciating detail the brilliant efficiency of the those methodic killers. The nightmares used to come often. Escaflowne's broadsword slicing mercilessly through steel melefs with liquid strokes. The screams as they died under his blade.

"There were fifteen of us altogether, all 'fanatically devoted' to Dilandau. We were too young to have distinguished the difference between loyalty and stupidity. We were too blinded by Zaibach—Dilandau, the Strategos, the Emperor—to sieve through the shit that they fed us. We thought that being a Dragonslayer was to be elite. To be better than your average soldier. Actually, we were mere sacrificial lambs for the generals."

Van inhaled sharply. "You're a Dragonslayer. Which one are you? Gatti?"

"Migel. Migel Labariel."

"I…thought you died in Freid."

"By some twisted hand of Fate, I was allowed to live."

"You seek revenge, of course."

To Van's surprise, the Dragonslayer shook his head. He fell silent, as if uncertain of what to say. At length, he said, "my father argued bitterly against my enlistment. He reminded me that I was the son of a stone mason—a commoner—not a knight. Why should I involve myself in the war? But my heart was set on it. Every night, I went to bed with only one thought in mind: to join the Zaibach army and exterminate all who would destroy my homeland. Three years ago, I would have killed you without hesitation…"

Migel looked Van straight in the eye, _do you understand_, _King of Fanelia_? _That I have lost that passion—that red hot rage—_

Van nodded.

Migel eyes briefly closed, then he tossed his sword to the ground. The metal struck the pebbled ground just as the morning bells began to toll. The sweet music rang throughout the countryside. Van held out his hand out. The former Dragonslayer looked at the hand, then said without rancor: "don't be silly. Just because I'm not going to kill you, doesn't mean I want to be your friend."

"Fair enough," Van replied. "What will you do now?"

Migel looked at his hands; he noted the elegant strength of the wrists. What skills had he besides the art of war?

"I'll go away." Migel said quietly, "I'm never going to return to these lands again."

"What do you want me to tell Celena when she wakes up?"

Migel stuck the hands in his pockets, and gazed at the town at the bottom of the hill. A ship was pulling into port; the grocers were setting up their wares: Palas was waking up.

And beyond it all, the green sea stretched endlessly in the western horizon.

"Tell her nothing." Migel said. "Tell her everything. Tell her that I will say a prayer for her. Tell her—that Migel Labariel says 'goodnight.'"

His eyes were bright, as he walked away towards the harbour.

---

The End


End file.
